Nothing beats the biting relevance of a powerfully executed, raw slice of contemporary theatre to examine the darkest problems of the age. Top Gs Like Me explores the part that the Internet plays in damaging ordinary folk, allowing them to fall prey to others with evil intent. Every week we hear of a new online scam where people have been tricked into giving away their money – or indeed their heart and soul. The Andrew Tates and – in this play – Hugo Bangs of this world are skilled, sophisticated operators, people scammers who know exactly the strings to pull to achieve what they want (which is, secondarily, your admiration and primarily, your money.)
Samson Hawkins’ Top Gs Like Me, set firmly in Northampton, tells the story of the likeable, impressionable and naive Aidan, a classic underachiever like most of us, who whiles away his free time at Radlands skate park, accompanied by his daily peanut butter and jam sandwiches, trying to master a trick on his scooter that is just too skilful for him to get right. Earning minimum wage at Morrisons and Deliveroo, with a frustrating homelife and no love life, there must be more that he can do to gain a foothold in the world. Best friend Mia is off to Bristol to study photography, and she’s got a new boyfriend, Charlie, who’s a pukka product of the Boys’ School, naturally confident with his charming bonhomie. There’s nothing quite like finding out that the girl, who you hope could be your girlfriend, is introducing you to her new boyfriend, to make you realise quite how much you’re missing out.
In amongst the ever-changing noise and messages that he observes as he doomscrolls, Hugo Bang comes into insidious focus on his phone, all sharp red suit, successful aura, and magnetic charisma. If he can do it, how come I can’t, thinks Aidan (precisely as Hugo Bang intends him to think). His mantra is simple: get the cash first, then you’ll get the girls. And once you get the girls, you get more girls. Happy days, as long as you remember never to treat the girls as human. As Aidan starts to fall under Hugo’s spell, Grace wanders into his life, attempting to give off streetwise vibes, and willing to be his friend, maybe more. Aidan sees how he can use Grace as part of his new business – his plan to get the cash first. Thus starts a chain of events that ends up disastrously for everyone involved.
It gave me great satisfaction to realise I had to Google what a Top G is. It’s a Top Gangster, one of those terms that Andrew Tate and his ilk have created, to lure unsuspecting young men, Pied Piper like, into their way of thinking. Being a Top G may sound tempting, but it’s no way of life for a decent human being. It’s a gateway into misogyny, prejudice and blaming everyone else for the situation you find yourself in – except yourself. Take responsibility for your own actions and situation, and you need never fear falling into this pernicious trap.
The cunning twist in Hawkins’ writing is that, whilst exposing the harm and indeed criminality that the likes of Hugo Bang can induce, Aidan doesn’t suffer all the consequences of his actions that he might. Hawkins recognises that Aidan is a victim too. In a programme note, director Jesse Jones writes “I don’t believe we can live in a world where mistakes made at eighteen define someone forever”, and the end of the play allows for both an optimistic and pessimistic future, with both a hint at redemption and the likelihood that the Internet will continue to do its worst.
Anyone familiar with the usual configuration of the Derngate auditorium will be astounded when they see how it has been transformed to incorporate a skatepark as the centrepiece of traverse staging. It becomes a huge, thrilling acting space, which can comfortably host the full cast of 31 actors, which includes 25 third year Acting students from the University of Northampton who perform the vital, and hugely effective, role of Internet Ensemble – the constant cacophony of disconnected voices and images that appear for seconds on our phones until you swipe them away. It’s a fascinating concept which they deliver seamlessly with great humour and insight.
Technically, the production is also an outstanding achievement. Rebecca Brower’s set totally nails the graffiti-covered functional but comfortless space, and I lost count of the number of positions from where a cast member can enter the stage – there are at least ten, giving it a truly immersive feel. Rory Beaton’s creative lighting and Benjamin Grant’s sound designs work together in a mosaic of intricacy and enviable slickness. Hats off too, to Monica Nicolaides’ outstanding movement direction and Kiel O’Shea’s fight direction, which gives us some superbly believable stage combat.
On top of it all are six main performances of outstanding quality. Daniel Rainford convinces us that Aidan is a true Everyman character; restless, guileless, and without a plan for the future. He also shows us that the manosphere version of himself is an unnatural warping of his character; artificial and without the necessary charisma to become the next Hugo. He’s never off stage in a physically demanding and powerful performance. Encouraging his descent, Danny Hatchard is perfect as Hugo, constantly reinforcing the simplicity of getting what you want, appearing heroic, dishing out his diktats in bite size chunks; and, when everything ends in disaster, he simply slinks off quietly, unnoticed, without saying a word – until his next victim comes along.
Fanta Barrie gives a terrific performance as Mia; eloquent, insightful, and delivering probably the best speech of the play, that examines the consequences of Aidan’s actions on other people. Finn Samuels is also excellent as the effortlessly urbane Charlie, Emily Coates gives a superb performance as Grace and David Schaal brings the character of Dave, the alcoholic who spends this time drinking at the skate park, to life with a remarkable speech about how one must always take responsibility for one’s own actions.
If you know decent people who have been radicalised, and have no idea how this happened, this play may help you understand why. It offers no easy answers or solutions and no happy ever afters. But it does make you think, and talk; it challenges you to find a way out and dares you to judge those who ought to do better. A tremendous achievement by writer Samson Hawkins, director Jesse Jones and the entire cast. A must-see!










